I Was Disgusting
by El Hustino
Summary: [Oneshot, Lime, Valentine's gift to LunaKitsuneBlu] My mind forced disgusting thoughts and feelings upon me. Unable to put them aside, I lost control. I was disgusting. Yet, in the end...


I was disgusting.

The urges, the impulses, the carnal and primal desires wracked my brain on a regular basis. Hungry and lustful, the taunted and teased me, playing with me. For how many weeks they were there, I could not say. When they first appeared, I did my best to cope with them.

I ignored them, but they grew.

I pushed them back, but they became enraged.

I shut myself off from them, but they tore down the walls.

I cowered in fear, but they embraced me.

The nonnegotiable and overpowering yearning shocked me to the core: to think something so simple and long cast off by myself could return with such fury as to overpower _me! _To consider the cause of such feelings sickened me.

I was disgusting.

Synapses of the brain, I had always believed such things to be, yet I was entirely incapable of silencing them, of stopping them, of getting the damnable noise akin to a constant ringing out of my mind.

I was a being of perfection, wielding complete and faultless control over the whole of my body, from my muscles to my mind. Yet, I was entirely powerless in the face of such unimaginable urges.

The magnitude at which they hammered my mind was indescribable! I, perfection, was caught unaware by the impulses, attacking me when I was weak and unable to notice their appearance and growth until the damage became irreversible.

No matter my reaction, I could not overcome the urges. No matter my logic, I could not outwit them. I was unable to think past the feelings to get to a point where I could control them and get over them, yet, I was unable.

Unable…or unwilling?

I had clenched my skull with my white knuckles on many a night, considering the thought that I may have unconsciously held back, allowing the desires to become stronger and more entwined with my psyche.

I was disgusting.

A dam, I created, one to hold the yearnings at bay: not to cast them away or ignore them, but to keep them in check so that my mind and body would not be overpowered by their determination. If I were to live with the urges in my mind, growing, I would at the very least keep them in check, even if I accepted them.

They grew and grew, those feelings. Those yearnings and urges that wracked my mind; how weak I had become to have allowed myself to fall into a state of helplessness. The irony to realize that myself—mind and body—was the cause of the state gave little solace.

Because they—my mind and body—were too frail, I was unable to do anything. I waited, damming the ever-growing mass of desires and urges, but yet I knew such actions were futile; the mass would overpower me, yet I was denying the fact, believing myself still impervious.

Every day, I would shake, my carnal wills attempting to envelop my mind; the fear that they may do just that may have been one of the few defenses keeping them from doing so for some time.

I never believed that I would ever experience something with such will within me that I myself did not control. For so long, I never experienced such cravings and sense of need—never. That may be why I was so defenseless.

Never, for the length of my entire life and an eternity, would I have believed myself capable of harboring such urges. After a while, I felt myself regain control, as the yearnings so strong as to shake my body finally ceased.

Yet, that was worse than anything possible.

The shaking urges, the need to move my body to fulfill the yearnings, may have stopped, but, in their place—or, rather caused by them: a more indirect and cunning ploy caused by my traitorous mind—were thoughts.

Images and scenes!

Of me, fulfilling the actions that the urges had sought, yet all in my mind. They played constantly and repeatedly, yet each one was entirely different. They took place in one setting or another; they would involve different means and actions; they would begin differently: sometimes with me casually and calmly starting or with the situation coming to me.

Yet, each and every time, I was willing.

I was disgusting.

I was afraid. I mulled over the urges, the scenes, the _dreams _and _feelings, _constantly, attempting to regain control—to regain my sanity! I could be nothing else but insane to allow such images and thoughts into my mind, to even…_enjoy _them.

I found myself idly daydreaming. Each time, I would realize just what I was picturing in my mind and would berate myself for such leniency and indecency. I could not help the problem, though: the stimuli that had originally instigated the feelings—the _lone _stimuli, as I never reacted before or after to anything in such a way—came into my presence daily.

I could have left; I could have ran; I didn't.

My legs refused to carry me away. My eyes refused to turn my gaze.

Day in and day out this continued, the wills of the feelings gripping my consciousness growing ever more as time passed.

Until, one day, long after the feelings began, they grew too strong.

The dam broke.

I succumbed to my want.

I was disgusting.

I jumped up, so quickly as I myself were unaware of what I was doing. The stimuli—_her—_was trapped between my body and the wall. My chest heaved and my breath panted. My hands, wet with perspiration, were pressed against the wall on either side of her.

Her eyes, as blue as the untainted sky, looked up into my own—a blue, as well, but of a different variety. Shock and surprise were evident, yet no fear. I was unable to comprehend her, as was always the case; possibly that was what had began the gnawing curiosity and feeling that stemmed from her.

For a long moment—as it was both far too long and even more short—we looked, each blue eye looking at its counterpart. My face drew closer; I could smell the hair, which was the color of rich earth.

"Mister Kn—"

I cut off her question as my hard lips—a part of my mind screamed and died in the process—pressed against her own. They were softer than anything in the world. In my mind, the yearnings and feelings were not sated by such a minor action and they only grew in intensity…but I accepted them and, in fact, yearned for more.

She had came to bring me sustenance, as she always had for so very long. Despite lashing out at her—partly from my normal persona and partly in fear of the growing sensations in my mind and body—she continued to do so. I was at a loss for words, save one: she was _caring_ for me. To think, one of her kind, caring me, of all beings!

I pulled away; she had not returned the kiss, so I looked away from those blue eyes. Yearnings were a fickle thing: they are capable of convincing anyone of something that could not happen.

Yet, after another moment, she leaned over and those delicate, supple lips pressed against my weathered cheek. For only a second, though. Pulling away, she was now the one unable to look me in the eyes.

Regret, maybe distraught.

Yet, I did not stand down. I pressed my body against hers, pushing her firmly against the wall. She did not push away; she did not attempt to escape. The yearning, now a fire within my mind and chest, grew with the touch of our bodies.

A part of me yelled.

I was disgusting.

I continued, nevertheless.

Her large, soft chest pressed against my own. My legs entwined with her own, causing me to press my pelvis against one of her long, slender legs. The fire screamed at me, but I was entirely willing.

My mouth connected with hers, once again, but this time felt a resistance. She responded with her own emphatic kiss, one with enough force to surprise me and push my head back. I returned the pressure and forced my tongue into her mouth.

I felt her body shake at the intrusion and her head pull back ever so slightly, but she did not attempt to flee. Her leg, the one not embraced by my own legs and groin, lift and settled on my hip, wrapping around my waist.

The entanglement, the willingness to succumb, the _enjoyment._

I was disgusting.

I kept going.

My waist moved slowly against the thigh of her leg as my mouth continued to explore hers. Her arms, previously placed against the wall for support, moved towards me, wrapping beneath my own and her hands planted themselves firmly against my back.

Our mouths continued to taste each other in numerous ways; I removed my own from hers and began pecking her skin with my lips, going from her cheek to her neck. Hers, once I reached the broad, soft shoulders, moved up and planted their own tentative pecks against my course skin. They were gentle and, still, she seemed reluctant, but not willing to pry away.

The fire became a torrential storm, filling my entire body with feelings that I had never felt. Both intriguing and frightening, I continued on, wanting to understand them fully. My mind, my heart, and groin flared with the fiery storm within my body.

The dreams, the images and scenes, none were comparable to the moment.

The fear, the questioning, the reluctance: they were all eclipsed by the rush and the feelings. The carnal urges became one with my mind and I felt as if I ascended a new level of comprehension.

My hands left the wall and wrapped around her form, taking in fists of the earthy hair. I lifted her only slightly, eliciting a slight and frightened gasp from her, still wary of the situation. Unwilling to allow it to stop, I continued and did not question.

Upon lifting her, our bodies were ever more close as her weight was pressed against my body. Her breasts pressed against my chest, sending my heart racing. Our pelvises pushed against each other, infuriating the fire in that area. She let out another whimper; I assumed she felt the same I did.

Before she ended the frightened sound, my mouth engulfed hers in another deep kiss; her eyes widened again from surprise. She was continually in shock throughout the situation, yet did nothing to move away.

I enjoyed it. The feeling that she was afraid, yet capable of overcoming that to allow it to happen sent me aflutter, mostly because I did not understand why she did.

Carrying her across my room, my lips still engulfing her own in their embrace, I made our way towards my bed. In the process I knocked away the table and the single chair that stood: the other had fallen when I jumped from it, beginning the entire situation.

I dropped her—not too abrasively, but I did not lower her gently—onto the bed, making her bounce a bit before settling against it. She laughed as she bounced and I had looked at her oddly; the unusual behavior, which I could not contemplate, again set fuel to the fires raging in me.

I looked down upon her large, shapely form; her face was innocent and carefree, almost unaware of what just happened or what was about to happen. Yet, I saw, somehow, that she knew and knew well, possibly better than myself. A being that I should have felt as inferior and insignificant was aware of my every move now.

And I was enjoying it.

I was disgusting, a part of me told me.

I grew even worse, partly to simply spite that part of me.

I climbed atop the bed, standing on my knees above the tantalizing body as I looked down upon her. Those blinding blue eyes looked back innocently, unassuming. I myself almost felt a pang of guilt, but instead of smothering, it propagated the fire within me; at that point, even if I wished to stop, I would not have been able to.

Luckily, I did not wish that.

I laid down atop her form, our bodies once again pressing against each other. Oh, how my body had screamed at me during that short time I could not feel her against me. Now, it screamed still, but not out of fury towards me, but of an unequal sort of elation.

Rubbing, pressing, feeling: they all caused the voices—the ones that had been the yearnings in my mind—to scream and I, inwardly, did as well.

She still appeared frightened and reluctant but, again, did nothing to resist; in fact, she was the first to instigate another kiss, her soft lips hungrily searching for my own.

I moved my body against hers, only slowly and gently; I felt my groin caressing the wedge of her legs, and her breasts, like two incomparably soft cushions, rubbing against my chest.

A few more long, long moments ended far sooner than I would have hoped; she allowed my tongue to search for hers, both entangling and twisting. The taste was strange, yet, mesmerizing. In all my long years I had yet to find something so surprisingly luscious.

After, though, I looked down upon her again; she looked back to me, eyes wide, awaiting something else. A pure, almost childish smile appeared on her face—another one of the instigators that had begun this situation so long ago. The smile.

I had felt myself pushed even more so at that moment. I looked over her body, mind screaming at what was wrong, what I was missing, then my hands moved in answer. They unbuckled her overalls.

The clothing, of course! That infernal mesh of cloth that prevented me from being any closer. My hands tore the annoying straps off her body and sent them laying on a far end of the room.

My hands shook; whether fear or excitement, at that point I could not tell. I shouted, inwardly, towards my hands to regain control, as they were making it impossibly difficult to progress.

Yet, my hands were unneeded. Her own hands slowly and calmly disappeared within her shirt and, quickly and fluidly, she pulled the garment over her head and allowed it to fall to the floor.

For a moment, I was the one surprised and reluctant. I quickly overcame the feeling and, once again, my hands moved; they squirmed behind her torso, almost entirely bare for but one aggravating annoyance. Undoing the strap behind her back, I flung the undergarment across the room ferociously.

My fingers gently moved atop the newly revealed mounds: perfectly round and even larger than I had thought before. I grasped a breast with one of my hands, only able to hold half of one in my palm, and gently squeezed.

She eyes shut and her hands clung to the bed. As I continued to caress the mounds with my fingers, I heard her breathing become shorter and quicker. My heart, seemingly wanting to race her breathing, also quickened and shortened its beats.

My head leaned down, closing the distance between itself and one of the breasts quickly. My lips, as gently as I possibly could—which was still difficult for someone who was as unfamiliar with being gentle as I was—began pecking at the large mounds. Slowly, then increasing in both speed and emotion.

She bit her lip and I heard her whimper; her hands clutched the bed tighter than before.

My tongue reached out, gently playing against the large mass, dancing around the tip.

Her gasp this time was easily recognizable. Her hands clenched ever tighter, her knuckles paling. Still, she said nothing to stop me and her back arched, moving her body closer to mine, once again.

For years upon years I had made it a necessity for me to study and learn all there was of the body: every inch, nook, and cranny; every single strength and weakness. Yet, in that short time, I was learning more about the human body I had in my decades of study.

Suddenly, my body felt constrained and trapped, almost a sense of claustrophobia. In a fury, I tore off my own tattered shirt, damp with perspiration, and sent it into a far corner. I took a deep breath, feeling as if I had removed a heavy, constricting binding.

Once again, I gazed upon her. She lay there, still innocent and her naked torso gleaming. I had never used the word in my life and found it difficult to say, even to myself, particularly since a part of my mind screamed at me, it saying I was filthy and should feel shame and abhorrence towards myself.

I was disgusting.

But she was _beautiful._

One of her hangs tentatively rose, the tips of her fingers only glancing my chest. A moment, then she rubbed my chest gently. I felt dizzy at the touch. She continued, rubbing and tickling my torso, until she sat upright and placed another kiss, our lips barely coming into contact.

I stared for a moment, then shook my head to concentrate. I wrapped my arms around her bare torso and pulled her closely and tightly, our naked chests rubbing against each other.

As I had a while before, I placed kisses from her mouth, down her neck, and around her shoulders. She let out light gasps with each deep caress of my lips, the sounds only audible to me due to our close proximity.

I gently skimmed the ridge of her back from her neck to her waist with my fingertips. She shivered at the touch, but soon after, as if the shivers had accumulated and were about to make her burst, she grabbed the back of my head and placed a kiss so firmly upon my lips that I thought they would meld into one.

My shock aside, I accepted the kiss, but was unable to muster enough strength as to equal the force of her own. My hands played with her back only a few moments more, then I moved them both down her slender, smooth back to her rounded posterior. I allowed them to settle there and grab a hold; I pulled and her pelvis pushed ever closer against my own.

Though she refused to end the kiss, I moved during and untangled our lower bodies. My hands moved from her backside to the front, undoing the buttons of her trousers. A stuttered gasp interrupted our kiss as my fingers brushed against her.

Instead of whispering an apology, I took the opening to return the kiss, now in control and my fingers moved more quickly, brushing against her repeatedly before beginning to pull the pants down.

I pulled tightly, causing her to fall onto her back as the pants were removed, the last undergarment going along with them. In one final, furious throw, I tossed the last of the clothing atop my shirt, finally victorious against the infuriating shell that had kept me away.

I stood on the bed, on my knees, and froze, once again, at the site before me.

Conflicting voices rose in my head. They screamed, telling me this was disgracing all I had fought for. Those long battles, all those years, thrown away due to the basic instincts that I had attempted to forgo long, long ago. They shouted, sounding eerily similar to myself, claiming I was a failure and a traitor—a hypocrite!

They said there was nothing I could possibly do to repent for all I had done, for the horrid and sickening mistakes I made. I was a disgrace to all I had once stood for, all the things I had proclaimed. I sunk to a level lower than that which I had loathed.

I was disgusting.

I decided I enjoyed it.

At the sight—beauty that I had never considered existing, particularly on this world—the fire within me concentrated; the pounding energy moved from my chest and mind, leaving them clear and me able to focus. The energy seemed to move, concentrating between my thighs.

I grasped her feet, moving my fingers between her toes, eliciting a series of loud giggles. My fingers moved, tickling her feet, moving along her lower leg and then her thigh. My hands came together between her thighs, causing the giggles to be replaced by a short gasp. They lingered there, causing her to arch her back slightly and bite her lip.

As I moved upwards, her back relaxed; a smile appeared on her face from the gentle skimming of my fingers against the sides of her torso. As they went up, across her ribcage and over the soft mounds—eliciting another series of giggles—her back relaxed, but her naked pelvis rose, pressing against the muscles of my hardened and smooth abs.

Once my hands had traversed the whole of her body, I fell atop her, the fire inside me screaming once again. The feeling of her nude body below me, the soft and smooth skin covering each and every inch of her body, the smell of her perspiration mixed with my own—my body screamed, sending the voices of reluctance cowering in a corner.

Even if it was but one time,

Even if I regretted it all after,

Even if I was disgusting,

I had to finish. The lusts and carnal urges were too far in control; ironically, that same control over my mind gave me a sense of freedom. I finally had a meaning, something to keep me going, even if it was something I had not wanted and may not want later.

For now, oh…how I wanted. I had never wanted anything that strongly before.

I had not noticed immediately, but her hands edged their way between us, towards my lower body. The hands, which appeared kind and gentle, exerted a force that caused my eyes to grow wide; she, in one movement, undid my trousers and, along with my undergarments, shoved them to my knees.

My eyes glanced to my bare body and, for some odd reason, I felt my face flush. She laughed, making her bosom bounce against my chest; smiling that smile that had started this months ago, she embraced me and placed a light kiss against my flushed cheek.

Shaking my head and regaining my composer, I kissed her. We both placed our full force into that once kiss, our tongues meeting each other half way. Our hands played along each of our bodies, eliciting laughs, gasps, and a variety of other noises from each of us.

We had become a single being: completely enveloped in each other, there was no other way to describe what we had become at the moment.

We were aware of every inch of the other's body, using the knowledge to our advantage. I myself was more forceful and abrasive, while she was so gentle that I felt as if I was in another plane of existence.

Our lips, fingers, and tongues played upon our bodies: mine across her face, torso, and bosom, and hers traveling around my neck and her fingers venturing around our pelvises.

Once again, those soft lips connected with my own; in my head, gears turn, setting up the finale. I kissed her deeply, pressing her head against the bed and placed a hand beside either side of her skull. Erect, I tickled her pelvis, gliding above and teasing. Her breath turned to quick rasps as she appeared to grow excited in anticipation, possibly worried or afraid.

Her hands clutched the bed, her knuckles turning white. The kiss escalated, increased, casting me out of the world. Finally, I plunged, entering her. Her eyes shot open and her voice rasped. Gently moving back and forth, she began to whimper. Her eyes watered, but she arched her back more than ever before, forcing me entirely within; she let out a short, shrill squeal while doing so.

Our bodies, entirely one, moved as a single creature. Our mouths, our hands, our groins—all were, as far as I was concerned, indistinguishable from the other.

I, hardened and cruel, somehow became meshed with a being of purity and beauty.

Our mouths moved without our commands, as if our lips knew what to do. The rest of our bodies was similar as well: for me, it was almost as if I was a mere spectator rather than a participant.

Her hands were pale white and I thought she may tear the bed apart. Her bosom cushioned my own body from hers, but I imagined the bruises and pain she herself may have felt. Her groin restricted my entry, but we both pushed past the friction.

_Elation!_ I had been attempting to think of a word to describe the whole situation since it had began and only then did something come to mind. The other option—insanity—was accurate, but not quite as pleasing.

My body clenched and I myself gasped; she followed suit with her own, which she clenched off by biting her lip. The fire built into a raging tumult, uncontrollable and ready to burst.

Her back arched ever more, pushing my body upwards with the force. It slowly lowered, but pushed up again. We played that game, a sort of perverse tug-of-war, for what seemed like both long hours and mere seconds.

Finally, the fire was let loose and I let out a gasp so hollow and low that I myself questioned whether or not I made a noise. She, following suit soon after myself, let out a loud sound, akin to all her giggles and laughter melded into one sudden and loud noise.

He back fell limp against the bed; her chest slowly rose and fell; her eyes were half-opened.

I hovered above her, panting, my own eyes wide and my face covered with sweat.

With the fire extinguished, all those voices—the urges, the desires, the yearning and cravings—finally disappeared. All in that one moment, the nuisances that had plagued me for so very long and had caused all this left my mind.

Leaving me alone.

I had looked down upon the woman who, exhausted both physically and mentally, began to drift asleep; eyelids began to fall and cover those piercing blue eyes, far too pure to gaze upon my visage.

I thought back to all that happened, to all that I had thought and done just then. The lone voice that remained said, once again:

I was disgusting.

I laid down beside her and, myself exhausted more than I had ever experienced, my head laying beside her own. I began to drift to slumber and replied to the voices:

_I really could care less._


End file.
